


What Happens in Vegas

by Morgana



Category: Angel: the Series, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean: Where the hell have you been?<br/>Castiel: On a bender!</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Vegas

Castiel walked out of the hotel room without looking back. He couldn't stand the company of the Winchesters just now, couldn't bear to look at the two brothers that had cost him everything he held dear. Heaven still clung to them, remnants of his Father's Grace swirling about them both, and it left Castiel with the almost undeniable urge to either fall to his knees before them and beg for things angels shouldn't want, just so he could revel in Heaven's touch a little longer, or cast them both down into the Pit they belonged in, simply because they were granted access and he no longer was. So he turned away and left them to their own devices.

Between one step and another he whisked himself from Parkersburg to Las Vegas. Dean had gone on and on about the city's propensity for sin, building it up into a modern day Sodom or Gomorrah, but when Castiel looked around the street he found himself on he saw none of the open revelry that those two cities had been so well-known for. He thought about the type of place he wanted, the seedy kind of bar that the Winchesters favored so frequently, and it was easy enough to find it, the taint of true sin and desperation glowing even brighter than the candy-colored neon and venial sins that swarmed all about the city.

The place was dark in the way most of these places seemed to be, but it didn't appear to bother the few patrons that sat scattered about the room. Castiel walked up to the bar and laid Jimmy Novak's gold card down. "Give me the strongest alcohol you have," he told the bartender.

Strangely enough, the man didn't immediately pick the card up. He glanced down at it and briefly looked over at the only other man sitting at the bar, a slender blond dressed in leather. The man turned to look at Castiel, blue eyes unnaturally sharp in the dim light, and while he couldn't quite tell what he was, there was no question that he wasn't human. He studied Castiel for a minute, then nodded.

The bartender picked up Jimmy's card and turned away to run it and take a bottle down from those stacked behind the bar. "Pretty tall order," the blond commented above the clink of glass and the splash of liquid being poured out. "Plannin' to stay a while, are you?"

Castiel turned to look at him as closely as the man had studied him just a second ago and that was when he saw it. The demon was so closely twined with the human that there was no question that this was more than possession, for all that it seemed to shine with a strange purity of its own, almost as though... but that was impossible. If he was what Castiel knew he was, that couldn't be.

For half a second, he considered asking about it, but something in those blue eyes warned him not to bring it up, so he just said, "For a while." However long it took to dull the pain of being shut out of the only home he'd ever known while the Winchesters walked it freely.

The blond nodded. "Must be plannin' on doin' some heavy drinkin'," he commented. "Man doesn't usually walk into a bar alone 'less he doesn't want his mates knowin' what he's up to."

Castiel thought about pointing out that neither of them were, technically speaking, men, or that his 'mates' consisted of a pair of brothers that were likely to bring about the end of days in the next few months. 'Team Free Will', Dean had called them, but what a ragged, laughable little team they were. A discarded angel, one that Heaven couldn't even be bothered to hunt, the anti-Christ who had loosed Lucifer upon the world that he was fated to destroy, and the righteous man who'd been so thoroughly corrupted by his brother that he would likely stand by and watch it happen. With teammates like those, who needed enemies? They were doing a better job of destroying themselves than Lucifer and his minions could ever hope to do.

"I like being alone," he said heavily, reaching for the glass that was placed in front of him. The vampire seemed to take the hint, because he shrugged and turned his attention back to his own glass while Castiel drained his in three swallows. The whiskey tingled a little as it slid down his throat - not as much as the tequila shots that Ellen had given him before they went to face Lucifer, but he could see how humans could find comfort for their sorrows in the faintly lingering warmth.

A second and third drink vanished before Castiel realized that the bartender's continual movements were beginning to irritate him. Well, that and the way his phone kept ringing, the shrill peal grating across his nerves as Sam and Dean attempted to summon him back to their sides, like he was some kind of dog that could be called to heel at the sound of its master's voice. And while there was nothing he could do about the phone, aside from ignore it, he could certainly address the first problem. "Leave the bottle," he instructed the bartender. "I wish to get properly drunk."

"Picked the wrong place if that's what you're looking for, mate."

Castiel looked over at him, this stranger who seemed to be just a bit too interested in his plans. "And why is that?"

"Couple of reasons, really. First, this isn't exactly the type of place the likes of you an' me can get enough alcohol to really get hammered." He slid down from his stool and walked over towards Castiel, and the angel saw the bright, terrible beauty of the demon that dwelt within him. "And second, they probably wouldn't look too kindly on somethin' like this..."

One hand slid around Castiel's neck, pulling him forward until cool, dry lips met his. It was shock rather than the vampire's strength that held him immobile, but when he didn't pull away immediately, the vampire seemed to take it as encouragement, because next there was a sleek, wet tongue sliding over his bottom lip, coaxing his mouth open and delving inside. By this point Castiel was leaning towards him, hands rising to tentatively settle on the other man's shoulders, leather both rough and smooth under his fingertips. He was panting when at last the blond eased back and smirked at him. "Fancy some more, do you?"

His head was spinning and he wasn't quite sure words would work for him just yet, so he nodded. Fingers skated lightly over his cheek and cool air ghosted over his wet lips as a low voice murmured, "The name's Spike, by the way. Just so you know what you'll be screamin' later, yeah?"

"I'm Cas -" His tongue felt too large for his mouth when he tried to offer his name in return, clumsy and dry, nothing like the deft one that had tangled with it just recently. He wondered wildly whether Heaven would tolerate his rebellion but punish him for a kiss from a demon, but another look at the vampire's wicked smile made him decide to worry about it later - much later. In the meantime, he had another name to offer, one that was feeling more and more like himself. "Just Cas."

"Pleasure to meet you, Cas," Spike replied, giving the back of his neck a brief squeeze as he stepped back. "You ready to blow this joint, then?"

By way of reply, the angel reached into his pocket, pulled one of the bills that Dean was always shoving into his hand _'Just take it, man, okay? You might need it someday'_ and tossed it on the bar. His cell phone chirped again, reminding him about the voicemail that waited for him, but he ignored it and stood up. "Where are we going?"

Spike just laughed and slipped under one of his arms, slinging an arm around his waist. "Dunno what you are, but if you fancy a right bender, I know this all-night liquor store..."


End file.
